


Lift The Veil

by GotTheSilver



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Gen, Ghosts, Haunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 23:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: Abandoned houses are probably that way for a reason, but when you're on the run, you don't have much choice.*“Yeah, Dom,” Mia says, tiredness in her voice as she calls out.  “What’s happening?”“Thought I felt something touch me,” Brian says, face flushing with how stupid it sounds.  “It’s not a big deal.”“Big enough deal for you to be holding your gun,” Mia points out as she drags a hand through her hair, sitting up on the couch.  “Did you see anything?”“No.”





	Lift The Veil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [araydre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/araydre/gifts).



> it was so much fun to write this, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> canon divergent post first movie with Brian going on the run with Dom and Mia.

They’ve been on the road for eight hours, and Brian can’t remember the last time he slept before that; after Dom told him to get in the car, they picked Mia up and started driving away from LA, stopping only at Brian’s actual, non-undercover, apartment so he could grab some essentials. By now, Brian’s sure all of their faces are on the wire, plastered over screens up and down California, probably being spread across the country. He ditched his LAPD assigned phone several hours back, and Brian’s not sure what he’d even say if Tanner asked him why he threw everything away to leave with Dom and Mia. Gravity, Mia said, and maybe there’s something in that about Dom, about both of them. At this point, Brian doesn’t think he could leave the Torettos behind even if he tried.

Mia’s crashed out on the back seat, if Brian looks closely he can see the tear tracks on her face from the way the day went, and he looks away, not wanting to think about the family he’s helped them leave behind. Dom looks weary behind the wheel, even with the blood cleaned up and his shoulder having been popped back into place after Mia refused to let him drive while injured, but they can’t risk staying anywhere where they’ll have to show ID. Even if they could, they haven’t passed any motels, it’s been nothing but abandoned houses and dusty roads after rolling the dice on whether they should try and hide in the crowds of cities, or take the quieter roads and hope no one gives enough of a fuck about such a memorable car.

It would make more sense to ditch it, but this car—it’s the last one Jesse worked on, the one that’s got all of them built into it in some way. Brian doesn’t think any of them have the heart to ditch it.

“Dom, we gotta crash somewhere,” Brian says, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eyes. “We’re running on fumes.”

Dom doesn’t say a word, instead he glances in the mirror at Mia and nods before directing his gaze back to the road ahead. Staring out of the window, Brian feels the ghost of a smile cross his face as he watches the seemingly never ending empty streets ahead.

“Why’d you do it?” Dom asks quietly. “Come with us?”

Brian doesn’t look at him, keeps his eyes on the side of the road. “You asked.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t have a deeper reason, Dom. It’s not like I’m leaving anyone behind.”

“Your boss—”

“Was never that impressed with me. Thought I was getting too deep with you.”

In the quiet of the car, Brian can hear Dom suck in a breath. “Maybe he was right,” Dom says.

“Maybe he was,” Brian says, squinting at a shape in the distance. “Hey, Dom, over there. Looks like a house.”

“You think it’s empty?” Dom asks as he slows the car.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Off Dom’s look, Brian grins. “Too soon? There’s no lights, the shutters are falling off, no car, no tracks from a car, no one’s been in there for a long while.”

“Okay,” Dom says as he pulls the car up around the back of the property. “But it’s your ass if someone comes at us with a shotgun.”

*

“Hey, a bed,” Mia says wryly as she gestures to a stained mattress on the floor. “What luxury.”

“I won’t fight you for it,” Dom responds with a slight smile as he walks into the next room. Brian watches him go, shifting the bag on his shoulder as he shines his flashlight around the room. The property seems abandoned, aside from some insects that scatter as soon as the light flickers over them, Brian’s seen worse, and he’s too goddamn tired to care what’s lurking in the corners. Dom comes back into the room and shrugs. “There’s a couple of couches in there,” he says, before gesturing at the rickety staircase. “Doesn’t look like we should risk the stairs.”

“Mia, first pick,” Brian says.

“I slept in the car,” she protests, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Dom need sleep more than I do.”

“Mia—”

“You really want to fight me on this?”

Brian grins, quick and sharp, before looking away. “Dom, couches big enough?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sacking out,” Brian says, smacking Dom on the shoulder. “You argue with her.”

“Learnt my lesson with that years ago,” Dom says as Brian passes him by.

Sitting down on one of the couches, Brian pulls out a stale pack of crackers, quickly eating a few before throwing it back in the bag. He laughs to himself as he listens to Mia and Dom bickering in the next room—by this point it’s as familiar as breathing to him—and he takes a blanket from his bag before stretching out on the couch, letting the sound lull him to sleep.

*

“The fu—” Smacking himself in the face, Brian wakes up, blinking against the darkness, thin blanket from his duffel bag tangled around his legs. Mia’s on the other couch, apparently Dom won that argument, and he can hear Dom’s snoring breaking the stillness of the darkness. That wasn’t what woke him, ever since Dom invited him into the house he’s had numerous nights to get used to Dom’s snoring, but something—Brian grasps about in his mind, trying to work out what it was. It felt physical, like something had been touching his face, but he’d woken up so fast he would’ve seen if someone had been in the room with them.

Still, Brian grabs his gun before he gets off the couch and heads over to where Dom’s dragged the mattress into the room and crashed out. “Dom,” he says. “Dom, wake up.”

“What is it?” Dom asks without opening his eyes.

“I—I don’t know. Something, man.”

Dom’s eyes open and he sits up. “Mia,” he says, loudly. “You good?”

“Yeah, Dom,” Mia says, tiredness in her voice as she calls out. “What’s happening?”

“Thought I felt something touch me,” Brian says, face flushing with how stupid it sounds. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Big enough deal for you to be holding your gun,” Mia points out as she drags a hand through her hair, sitting up on the couch. “Did you see anything?”

“No.”

“We didn’t check upstairs,” Dom says, struggling to get to his feet from the sagging mattress.

“Dom, I would’ve seen someone,” Brian says, offering his hand and hauling Dom up when he takes it.

“So what are you saying?” Mia asks, tying her hair up. “What? You think it’s a ghost?”

It’s a funny suggestion for all of ten seconds before there’s a crash in the other room that sounds like the ceiling caving in. Spinning around in the direction of the crash, Brian holds the gun out, feeling like an idiot but not wanting to risk anyone or anything attacking them. Dom’s right behind him as they inch forward, and even as they walk into the room, Brian can’t shake the feeling that they’re not going to find anything.

“It’s cold,” Dom says quietly as they clear the room. “It shouldn’t be cold.”

Mia nods towards the stairs. “I’m the lightest,” she says. “Give me the gun.”

“Mia—”

“Brian,” Mia interrupts. “Give me the gun.”

Shaking his head, Brian exchanges a glance with Dom before handing it over. “Be careful,” he says, watching her go up the stairs. “Don’t be a hero.” It hasn’t got any warmer in the room, and Brian sticks his hands in his pockets as they listen to the slow creaking of Mia going up the stairs. “You believe in ghosts?” he asks Dom, trying to break the strange atmosphere.

“I don’t know,” Dom says, eyes slowly looking around the room. “Never seen anything that’s convinced me yes, never seen anything to convince me no. You?”

“Sometimes.”

They fall into silence as Mia’s footsteps above them echo; the house isn’t big, and it doesn’t take long for Mia to call down to them that she’s coming back. “Anything?” Brian asks, taking the gun back.

“Nothing but a whole lot of dust, bunch of creepy looking dolls.”

“Dolls?” Dom asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, Dom, dolls. Ones with big heads, eyes poked out, bits all over the place.”

“Huh.”

Mia looks between them, tugging her sleeves over her fingers. “What are we going to do?”

“I felt something,” Brian says. “I know it sounds crazy, I do, but—” he breaks off and drags a hand over his hair. “There was something.”

Brian’s barely finished speaking before a gust of wind hits them, picking up bits of wood that might’ve once been a table; they only just manage to duck as it comes flying at them, smashing into what’s left of the doorframe and sending splinters flying everywhere. Before they can recover, there’s more debris flying at them, swirling around the room like there’s a goddamn localised tornado, and they fall to the floor, trying to avoid being hit.

“What the hell?” Dom yells, arm wrapped around Mia protectively. “We gotta get out of here.”

“No shit,” Brian shouts back. “Unless you want to try bargaining with whatever the hell this is.”

Mia leans in and raises her voice. “You get our stuff, I’ll get out to the car. Go,” she says, when it looks like Dom’s going to protest. “Now.”

She hustles towards the door and it flies open, only to slam shut as soon as Mia’s out. Brian pushes against the pressure of the wind and turns around to follow Dom back into the room they were sleeping in. It’s not an easy path, Brian feels like he’s fighting underwater, and bits of wood and other junk items are being picked up and aimed at them; by the time they make it into the room, Brian’s been hit more times than he can count, and Dom hasn’t fared any better.

Ducking down, he gets his hand around the strap of his duffle and meets Dom’s eyes. “Let’s go,” he shouts, and they both stand up, Brian’s still holding his gun, even though he knows it’s of no use against whatever the hell it is they’re being attacked by. They fight their way back through the room, and Brian turns his head when Dom cries out, swearing when he sees the blood trickling down Dom’s face. There’s no time to stop, Brian continues pushing his way towards the door, and when he gets there, it flies open. Trusting that Dom’s behind him, Brian goes through it, and would swear in a goddamn court of law that he feels a boot up his ass that sends him flying to the ground.

Dom’s not far behind, both of them coughing from the dust that’s been kicked up all around them, and they scramble around on the ground, turning to stare at the house. It looks like nothing special now, no sign of anything that’s just happened to them. In the quiet all Brian can hear is he and Dom breathing and Mia’s footsteps behind them as she walks up. The adrenaline flowing through Brian is overwhelming, and he can’t help the grin that’s creeping onto his face, or the laughter that bubbles up.

“Really?” Mia asks, looking down at him with a fond smile that he hasn’t seen since they left LA.

“Hey, we’re alive,” he says as he stands up, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “It’s something.”

“Yeah,” Dom says, grabbing the bags as he gets to his feet. “What he said.”

Mia grabs Dom’s chin with her hand, turning it to look at the gash on the side of his head. “Sure,” she says slowly. “You’re alive. Idiota.”

*

“Do you think it was a ghost?” Brian asks Mia as she drives. Dom’s asleep in the back after Mia stared him down into giving up control.

“I know there wasn’t anyone else in that house except us,” she says. “I don’t know. My mom, she—there were stories she’d tell us. Restless souls after death. After she—” Mia pauses. “I didn’t think about it after that. Didn’t want to.”

Brian hears what she doesn’t say and quiets, seeing flashes of people who died while he was on the job, people he tried to find justice for as best he could, of Jesse. “If that’s true,” he says softly. “I hope they find some peace.

“Yeah,” Mia says, a small smile on her face. “Me too.”


End file.
